


Questions answered

by black_winged_traveller



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, aroace!granny, greebo makes a cameo, nanny is a supportive if not entirely informed friend, that's not rly importand i just love him, we fix that though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 06:39:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14847695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_winged_traveller/pseuds/black_winged_traveller
Summary: Granny had never doubted how she felt. It was still good to finally have words for it though.





	Questions answered

“Well that was quite pointless” said Gytha as they descended the weaving forest path. This was steadfastly ignored by Esme, who generally held the same opinion, but was instead focusing on figuring out why they had been sent to do it anyway. There was a lesson somewhere in there, as Nanny Gripes rarely sent her on errands like these without reason. She was fairly sure that dealing with Gytha Ogg, a fellow witch in training, was involved. The two knew each other, of course, as any young girls in a small village in the mountains did, and had started to think of each other as friends as they frequently scavenged the woods for a particular herb or learned to cheat the local boys at cards.

They were reaching a small clearing now, one inhabited mostly by the resting woodcutters. At the other end of the clearing some of the village lads were hard at work preparing for the upcoming winter with, as Gytha was quick to noticed, most of their shirts abandoned on a nearby rock. She was starting to make the slight whistling sound that signalled to Esme that a distraction was necessary or else she’d be witness to the sort of comments no self-respecting individual would be saying out loud and in public. Too bad that Gytha’s self respect had learned to curve around her obscene language and not actually lose any of its volume some years ago.

“There must be a reason they send us up here,” she said in hopes of moving her friend’s attention from the gleaming muscles of the men working now not that far away. She was somewhat certain the girl had been swooning.

Gytha reluctantly turned to face the other witch, blinking rapidly while her brain caught up with her ears, and then sighed.

“You know, Esme, I just don’t know how you do it”

“Do what?” snapped Esme, who would have preferred to be solving their current problem instead.

“Oh, you know, never being taken by all the strong young lad,” said Gytha with an almost false air of casualness, “I imagine it must take some restraint is all”

Esme frowned instead of answering, which usually made a little “uh-oh” chime go off in the back of people’s heads.

“I never thought it should,” she muttered, and Gytha kindly pretended no to hear.

\---

It wasn’t that it was a sensitive topic. Definitely not. Granny Weatherwax didn'd _do_ sensitive. But Nanny would never really press or these when it came to certain topics, because she knew how Granny got then she was frustrated, and that had never been good for anybody in a five mile radius. Granny Weatherwax knew her own self like no one else, and she had come to know how other people worked pretty well too. Ever since she had been taken on as an apprentice by Nanny Gripes she had known she'd never really be like the average farmer, but what got to her from time to time were the differences between her and them that went beyond the pointy hat (or the lack there of). On one late night in their yought, when Gytha's tongue had been loosened by drink even more than usual, Esme had found that, in contrast to what was describes as a universal experience, she lacked a certain type of attraction towards other people. One she had never thought existed.

Making boys run after you was something everyone had done, so Granny had mostly joined in out of boredom and some curiosity to see what it was all about. She still wasn't sure what it had all been about, and besides, it hadn't proved entertaining for far too long, what with actually having to wait for the boy to catch up, so she had considered the experiece a bit of a waste.

\---

Ankh-Morpork, of all places, was where Granny found some more solid answers to the questions she had never asked. They came in the form of a pamphlet. Her eyes had been drawn to it by virtue of its abnormally large letters printed on almost decaying paper, and the flyer had been quickly pocketed before Granny hurried off to catch up with Gytha, who was too busy watching Greebo pick a fight with a dog trice his size to notice anything.

Later that evening she followed the directions on the pamphlet to an old but not unkempt building where a couple dozen people milling about the main in the main space. Some turned to look at her as she entered, and then proceeded to greet her with a friendly smile and go back to their conversations. It was a bit more anticlimatic than Granny had expected, really. She was trying no to be disappointed about that. This was a big city, after all, with all sorts for citizens, even if witches tended to stick to more rural environments.

The first people to approach her were a dwarf and a zombie, who introduced themselves as the founders of the place and offered to show her around. Granny ended up talking to probably everyone there as the night wore on, and found them extremely willing to answer her questions when she finally found it in her self to simply ask. 

She returned to her lodgings in the city in the early hours of the morning feeling a new kind of internal equilibrium and a strange high from all the new knowledge she'd been offered. So when she roused Nanny for breakfast and sat her down at the table and, after decades of awkwardly dancing around subjects, told her all about the things she had both just found out and had always know at the same time. In that moment, with the sunlight filtering through the window and Nanny's bacon abandoned in her plate as she listened, Granny Weatherwax felt lighter than she had in years.


End file.
